The king of Scotland, as Mr. Tytler remarks, was at this time “confined in a mountain fortress,” and the Scottish barons who had assumed the management of affairs were busily engaged in the collection and organization of an army. All this would be known to Edward, and accordingly, finding that neither the king nor the barons made their appearance at Newcastle, he put his own forces in motion, and began to approach the Tweed.
Before, however, he could reach the frontier, tidings came that the Scotch had already, without any public warning, complaint, or declaration of war, actually invaded England. On the 26th of March, the earls of Buchan, Menteith, Strathern, Lennox, Rosse, Athol, and Mar, with a force of about forty thousand men, broke into Cumberland, and ravaged the whole country with savage ferocity. The “Chronicle of Lanercost,” a record written at the time and on the spot, thus describes the invasion: “In this raid the Scotch surpassed the cruelty of the heathen, for, not being able to seize upon the strong, they wreaked their vengeance on the weak, the decrepit, and the young; children of two or three years old they impaled upon lances and threw into the air; consecrated churches they burned; women dedicated to God they ravished and slew.”
This exhibition of savage ferocity, however, gained for the Scotch neither honour nor advantage. When they came before Carlisle, a place of some strength, “a handful of the citizens,” says Mr. Tytler, “compelled them to retreat with loss.” The only real result of this movement was a disastrous one for the Scotch. They had, by taking the initiative, decided Edward’s course. He was, throughout his whole career, “slow to strife,” but he was not likely to sit in silence while his realm was invaded and his subjects slaughtered. He had reached Berwick on the 30th of March, and there the intelligence reached him of the Scotch invasion of Cumberland, and of the cruelties they were perpetrating. His exclamation on receiving this news is a characteristic one. “Blessed be God!” he exclaimed, “who hath up to this time preserved our hands blameless! But now, since they themselves have entered our realm in hostile array, we, under his guidance, will retaliate what they have done, and will return their mischief upon their own heads.”
Surely those who are fond of representing Edward as an ambitious and unscrupulous man, ought to hesitate when they see him, at a crisis like this, so manifestly anxious to be right, and feeling such relief of mind when the aggressions of the Scotch made his path perfectly clear.
He forthwith sent to those who held the command in Berwick, a summons for the surrender of the town on honourable terms. It was refused in the language of scorn. Edward accordingly took measures for an assault. He ordered his fleet to enter the harbour, while he would assault the walls. Three of his ships fell into the hands of the garrison, who instantly put every man to the sword.[71]
But the avenger was at hand. Edward himself led the assault, and was the first to clear the ditch.[72] The English, animated by such an example, carried everything before them. The castle surrendered upon terms the next day, and thus one of the largest and most important towns in Scotland was gained in the first three days of the campaign.
Some of the Scottish historians have striven to tarnish Edward’s fame by representing the storming of Berwick as a massacre. There is not the slightest ground for such an imputation. The carrying any town by storm must always be a dreadful operation, whether the town be Badajos or Berwick; but there was nothing to render the storming of Berwick worse than other efforts of the same kind.[73]
The Scots had themselves already provoked severity. In their invasion of Cumberland a few days previous, they had “killed all they found, sparing neither age nor sex;” and in this very siege, as we have just seen, when some English ships and sailors had fallen into their hands, they showed no mercy.
While Edward was occupied with the repair and restoration of Berwick, the abbot of Arbroath was announced, who brought to him a message or letter from Baliol, renouncing his homage. But, as Mr. Sharon Turner remarks, “if Baliol had not become Edward’s liegeman, such a renunciation was unnecessary; and if he were so, no liegeman could cancel his fealty without the consent of his lord. The renunciation was, therefore, evidence of its own absurdity.” The Scottish chronicles, written long after, tell us that Edward exclaimed, “Ah! fool and felon! Of what folly is he guilty?” We may easily believe that he would receive such a communication with indignant contempt. He turned his face towards Edinburgh, and began his march towards that city.
Midway between Berwick and the present Scottish capital stood the castle of Dunbar. Its lord, the earl of that name, was with Edward; but the countess, “hating the English,” called in, in her lord’s absence, some of the Scottish leaders, and put the castle into their hands. So important was the possession of this strong place considered to be, that the earls of Athol, Rosse, and Menteith, with several barons and thirty‐one knights, threw themselves into it, with a large force, hoping to maintain it against Edward’s strongest efforts. The king, equally aware of its importance, despatched earl Warenne, with 10,000 foot and 1,000 horse, to capture it if possible. The garrison, alarmed at his approach, sent to “the guardians of Scotland” for aid, and the whole Scottish army, of 40,000 foot and 1,500 horse, moved down to its support. The garrison, now confident of victory, insulted the English as if already beaten. But the earl, says Mr. Tytler, “on the appearance of the Scottish army, at once advanced to attack it. On approaching the high ground, it was necessary to deploy through a valley, and the Scotch imagined they observed some confusion in the English ranks when executing this movement. Mistaking this for flight, they precipitately abandoned their position on the hills, and rushed down with shouts upon the enemy. But instead of an enemy in flight, they found an army, under perfect discipline, advancing upon their disordered columns. Having in vain endeavoured to regain their ranks, after a short resistance they were entirely routed. The victory was complete, and for a time it decided the fate of Scotland. Ten thousand men fell on the field or in the pursuit. A great multitude, including the principal Scottish nobility, were taken prisoners, and the next day, the king coming in person before Dunbar, the castle surrendered at discretion. The earls of Rosse, Athol, and Menteith, four barons, and seventy knights, submitted to the mercy of the conquerors.”[74]